In Which Holden Gets Help
by ArthurDent2
Summary: This is a dialogue between Holden and his psychiatrist, when he goes for his first session. '(smiles) Hello Holden, (pause) I'm Dr. Rayman, but if you'd like, you can call me Sarah.'


**A dialogue in which Holden goes to a psychiatrist for the first time. This, of course, all takes place after the end of the novel. Now, I don't actually know if there would have been female psychiatrists in the 1950's, but lets just, for my sake, say that there was. Also, I actually didn't realise this until after I had finished writing this, but I'm sure my fellow Sherlockians will notice that I (accidentally) called my psychiatrist Dr. Sarah... whoops. **

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

Characters**: **_Holden_**, Dr. Rayman**

**(smiles) Hello Holden, (pause) I'm Dr. Rayman, but if you'd like, you can call me Sarah.**

_Okay. Hello, Sarah._

**So, how are you feeling?**

_Not too good, I guess._

**(concerned) Why not? Tell me what you're thinking.**

_Well, really I was just wondering, when you become a psychiatrist, do you all have a script? Like when you all go to school to study and all, do they all tell you to say the same thing? Are you reading something right now, or saying something you memorised before?_

**(patiently) No Holden, we don't have a set script. No one is the same, so no one gets the same talk. All of you are individual, so you get your own special session. Now, please, can we talk about ****_you_****?**

_Oh, okay then. Well, I suppose I'm_ _depressed._

**It's a good thing you're here then, because my job is to make you feel comfortable and feel that you can be open with me, so you can get better.**

_(nods) Okay._

**Now, Holden, tell me exactly what you are feeling, right now.**

_Well, I guess a little nervous, because I've never been to a psychiatrist or anything, and I don't know how to do this really. Also, I'm still sad and all._

**Holden, can you tell me when you first started to feel this way?**

_(pause) Well, I suppose it started after all that stuff with Allie._

**Can you tell me about that?**

_Um, okay. When Allie was around ten, the doctors told us that he had leukemia. It was meant to be just a check up, because he was getting sick, and we didn't know what it was, so we went to the doctors, but we didn't think that he'd… He went a few months later, on July 18 1946. He fought really hard, but it wasn't enough. Eventually he just… My mom cried for days and I kind of got angry and broke almost every goddamn window I could find. I suppose it started then._

**(understanding) Do you still get angry about his death?**

_Not really, just that one time._

**Can you tell me about Allie?**

_Oh, Allie is great, like that kid, you know? The one that everyone likes, and they think, why does it have to be him? He really is. Boy, you never met one person who doesn't like old Allie, and he likes all of them back. He is smart too, ten times smarter than me and about two years younger. He is terrifically intelligent. Teachers love him too, they would even write home sometimes, just to tell mom and dad about what a delight it is to have him in class, and not in that phony way either, they really mean it. But he isn't just the smartest one either; he is the nicest kid you'd ever meet. He never gets mad. People with red hair are meant to get mad real easy, but Allie never does. God, he is such a nice kid. He has the baseball glove too, a leftie, he's left handed, Allie. It has poems written all over it, in green ink. He gets bored on when he's waiting to get on or for a pitch, see, so he'd read these poems he wrote on his baseball glove. He loves poems, all kinds, too. He's smart like that, no other kid his age cares about poems, and he likes the good ones, like the real smart ones and all. He's a real funny kid, too. Some times he just thinks of stuff that he thinks was kind of funny, and he would laugh so hard, like you think he is going to fall straight out of his goddamn chair, then afterwards, when he finally stops, he'll tell you what it was, and it is really funny. That's the kind of kid Allie is… was._

**Thank you for sharing that with me Holden, that was beautiful. You really cared for your brother, didn't you?**

_Yeah, everybody did._

**(smiles sympathetically) Holden, tell me more about your depression. Do you remember the last thing that made you really happy?**

_Well, there was this one thing that happened, it's kind of hard to explain though._

**Tell me about it.**

_Well, there was this kid, about six years old. He was with his folks, just walking down Broadway, just coming out of church. The parents were just talking, not really paying any attention to their kid or anything. The boy, he was walking right near the curb, on the edge of the street, not on of the sidewalk like he'd ought of, with his mom and dad. He was doing that thing that kids do, where he was walking real straight, each foot in front of the other, like he was one a tightrope and all. Then, he started humming, so I got closer so I could hear him, real discrete and all. The song was that little tune, 'Catcher in the Rye.' You know? The one that goes, 'If a body catch a body coming through the rye.' He had a pretty little voice. It made me feel better, like not so depressed anymore, for a little bit._

**Why do you think that made you happy?**

_I don't know. It just did._

**That's fine; we can come back to that later, if you'd like.**

_Okay._

**Holden, this might be a bit difficult to answer, but please remember, everything you say in here, stays in here. You can say whatever you'd like, or don't say whatever you'd like. I will not ever pressure you into saying or doing something if you are not ready.**

_(nods)_

**Holden, have you ever had suicidal thoughts?**

_(lies convincingly) No._

**(gives an unsure look, nods, and jots something down into her book) Okay, that's good. Nothing is worth losing your life over, ever.**

_Okay._

**Now, what made you decide to get help?**

_Oh that's a whole other story. It all started on the Saturday of the football game with Saxon Hall. The game with Saxon Hall was supposed to be a very big deal around Pencey. It was the last game of the year, and you were supposed to commit suicide or something if old Pencey didn't win. I remember it was around three o'clock that afternoon and I was standing way the hell up on top of Thomsen Hill…_


End file.
